


A matter of looking

by dashwood



Series: My Magical Misadventures [1]
Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Fluff, Gryffindor!Perry, Hufflepuff!JD, JD finally gets to interact with unicorns, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwood/pseuds/dashwood
Summary: It's his 6th year at Hogwarts and JD's crush on Gryffindor's snarkiest Prefect might finally come to fruition. Also, someone is out to get him.
Relationships: Perry Cox/John "JD" Dorian
Series: My Magical Misadventures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609084
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	A matter of looking

**01.**

“You’ll bird-post me, right, Johnny?” 

JD suppressed the urge to groan and pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send you an owl, yeah.” 

They were standing in the middle of the platform, breaking the stream of chattering students like a well-weathered boulder. He caught some random snippets of conversation: _How was your summer_ , _did you finally get that new broom you wanted_ , _I heard the new DADA professor is a total quack_. And of course, there was the nervous babbling of first-years, at once worried at stepping foot into a whole new world beyond imagination and yet eager to start their biggest adventure. If Dan felt any resentment towards them for not being able to come along himself, he didn’t show. 

“And say hi to Christopher for me.” 

“Sure,” he said absentmindedly, eyes still searching the crowd for his friends. He thought that he'd spotted Elliot at the end of the platform, struggling with her trunk. He could just make out the movement of her lips, too – _frick, frick, double frick_. 

“Well then,” Dan grinned at him – exuberant and slightly manic – before pulling him in for a bear hug, and suddenly JD was overcome with a crushing sense of homesickness. Sure, his summer hadn’t been anything to write home about (so to speak), and yet he had no doubt that he’d pen his letter to Dan that evening, signing it _I miss you_ and actually _meaning_ it. 

Behind them, the Hogwarts Express huffed and puffed. 

**02.**

A sharp whistle cut through the air like a knife. JD waved Turk along and waited for Perry to catch up to him. 

“Newbie,” he nodded in acknowledgement. 

His hands were buried deep inside the satchel slung across his shoulder. JD wondered what he was searching for. 

“You know, that nickname made sense when I was a first-year, but it’s gotten a bit old now.” 

“Oh, what the hell, you know I can’t remember your name. Something with a J? Jennifer, Janice, Jolene – am I close yet?” 

JD frowned. He should probably just walk away – catch up with Turk and Carla lost somewhere in the sea of red robes ahead of him – but Perry was still rummaging through his bag, and curiosity kept him rooted to the spot. Finally, he watched as Perry pulled out something large and bright, and JD clamped his eyes shut reflexively as Perry raised the thing to his head, slinging it around his neck, and oh––

“What’s that?” 

Perry rolled his eyes as he tugged the scarf securely around his neck, carefully wrapping its ends into a loose bow. The scarf’s bright color was just a shade shy of Hufflepuff-yellow. 

“It’s a scarf, Melissa. Since I set your last one on fire and all that. Carla wouldn’t stop sending me howlers all summer.” He huffed, and JD noticed that his cheeks were slightly tinged. Probably because of the cold, he reasoned. “So, I’d really appreciate it if you could tell her to back off, hmmkay?” 

“Alright,” he mumbled and buried his face further into the scarf. It smelled like Perry. 

**03.**

He let his eyes roam across the Great Hall. There was Elliot, nose buried inside a book as she absentmindedly spooned cream of wheat into her mouth. One table over, Turk had his arm slung around Carla’s shoulder. The two of them looked good together, JD thought. He was happy that things had finally worked out for two of his best friends. 

Perry was strangely absent from the Gryffindor table, and JD frowned before his eyes finally found him at the Slytherin table, sitting between Jordan and Ben. He was engaged in what looked to be a heated debate with Bob Kelso, Hogwarts’ Head Boy and – according to Perry – demonic presence extraordinaire. 

With a sigh, JD turned back to his breakfast. Buttered toast and fried sausages, paired with a glass of freshly-pressed orange juice – his favorite. And yet everything seemed to taste bland and flavorless. Was he getting sick? 

He pushed the plate aside, stuffed an apple into his cloak pocket and headed out the door. He probably needed some fresh air. That was all. 

**04.**

He leaned over the fence, feet hooked onto the lowest plank for purchase. Malachi nuzzled his hand, and JD liked to think that he was happy to see him (even if he was more likely just grateful for the apple). JD took a moment to admire his mane, the fine hairs flowing like silk in the soft breeze. 

“Could you be any more of a girl, Newbie?” 

JD rolled his eyes and gave Malachi one last pat before turning around. Perry was standing a few feet away from him, hands stuffed into the pockets of his cloak and a look of wariness firmly plastered onto his face. JD frowned. Who _didn’t_ like unicorns? 

“I like unicorns,” he said as he hopped off the fence. “They’re… great.” 

Perry scoffed. “Wouldn’t know about that. Never took Care of Magical Creatures. I chose Divination instead. Makes for a great nap time.” 

JD snorted. “What, you never learned anything useful?” 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know as soon as palm reading gets me anywhere in life” 

“Oh!” JD eagerly thrust his hand between them, palm facing up. “Can you do mine?” 

Perry stared at it as if it were a dead pygmy puff. After a moment, he reached out and slowly wrapped his fingers around his wrist. JD shivered. 

“Sure thing, Newbie. See that line there?” 

JD leaned closer. His gaze was fixed – not on his hand and the lines there – but on Perry’s fingers, long and elegant, the tips slightly calloused where they dug into the skin just above his pulse point. Could he tell that his heart was racing? 

“Which one?” His voice sounded slightly hoarse, and JD quickly glanced up to see if Perry had noticed. They were so close now. If he took just one step closer – a teeny, tiny one – he could close the distance between them, and… 

Perry chose that moment to twist his fingers into the flesh of his wrist before jerking his hand upward so that JD’s open palm connected with his face. 

“Ouch!” He whined. “What was that for?” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

**05.**

He watched in amusement as Perry wrangled a gaggle of first-years through the halls. 

Ah, he could still remember being that small and helpless. How awe-struck he had felt back then, his eyes filled with wonder at every turn. How the mere possibility of magic had caused his heart to race inside his chest like a pixie desperate to escape its cage. Back then, everything had left him speechless; each age-old statue nodding at him as he passed them by, the moving portraits telling him to _watch your step, young man_ and how he had knocked straight into Perry anyway. 

Perry – nothing but a scrawny, twelve-year old then, five foot two of unfiltered irritation and sarcastic snark – had simply sneered at him. Still, he had seemed very imposing to JD’s naïve eyes, the golden lion on his chest pronouncing the strawberry-blond streaks in his hair, the fire in his eyes. 

JD had felt something then. A tug. Something that had pulled him in, an invisible force not unlike gravity. 

“What is it this time, Morgana?” Perry said as he walked up to him, the Gryffindor first-years sufficiently shooed to their classes. “And if you haven’t figured out that I’m being sarcastic whenever I ask you something, then you truly are a lost cause, Sabrina.” 

JD just smiled. 

**06.**

Malachi neighed in fright, his eyes opened wide in terror. 

JD whirled around but there was nothing there. Nothing but a thick, white fog. And somewhere in it, there was a voice. 

_He should look at_ me _, not..._

“I don’t understand.” JD said, but he might just as well have tried to talk around a spoonful of syrup. “I don’t–” 

He woke up with a scream. 

_...not you_. 

**07.**

He should have brought his gloves, JD thought with a frown. It was mid-December after all, and the Scottish winters were cruel and unforgiving. Around him, snow and hail were fighting in an epic swirl of white and muddy-grey. The only specks of color were the crimson shadows of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team, cutting through the thick air like red flashes of lightning. 

JD briefly wondered if he’d have made a decent player had he been a bit more graceful. He still couldn’t mount a broom without it knocking him over the head at least twice. It was probably a mere question of establishing dominance or something like that. Like bowing down to a Hippogriff to avoid being maimed alive. 

But really, JD would have loved to bask in the five minutes of fame that supposedly came with making the team. Girls throwing themselves at his feet, nods of approval and respect wherever he went. A clap on the shoulder, followed by a gruff _Well done, Newbie, now why don’t ya get out of that filthy uniform and hop on into the shower with me_. 

Okay, wow. He wasn’t sure where that had come from. 

His musings were broken by frantic shouts, and JD looked up just in time to catch sight of Carla’s fraught expression before a black blur shot straight into his eyesight. A Bludger, JD realized and – in what was probably the stupidest thing he could have possibly done – clamped his eyes shut. 

He waited for a blow that never came. 

Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself eye-to-eye with Perry whose broom hovered just a few feet away from him. His bat was slung over his shoulder, and the look on his face was positively murderous. 

“Better watch out, Princess.” His voice sounded strained, as if it took him a lot of effort to remain calm. “How will you ever find a husband if your pretty little face gets smashed in?” 

He should probably tell him to fuck off or thank him, or say anything other than––

“You think I’m pretty?” 

Perry blinked. Then he growled at him before turning back to the field, shouting at the others that practice was over and that they had better step up their game if they wanted to see the Quidditch Cup up-close. 

JD lowered his eyes. Across the field, Ben stood, his gaze unwavering and cold. 

**08.**

He chewed on the end of his quill, lost in thought, when a glaring flash pulled him out of his reverie. JD blinked a couple of times, his vision polka-dotted with dancing spots before it cleared just enough for him to make out the Ben-shaped figure standing in front of him. His hands were cradling a camera, and ah, JD thought, that explained the near blindness then. 

“Studying hard?” 

Ben nodded towards the books and parchment strewn across the table in front of him. 

“Ah, yeah. I suppose.” 

Confused, he watched Ben fiddle with the camera – a bulky, ancient thing – which emitted a series of chirring sounds before it spewed out a polaroid picture, black-and-white and unmoving. The Muggle version. 

“What do you need that for?” 

Ben smiled, and yet JD couldn’t help but think that it looked slightly wistful. It was strange to see Ben like this. He was usually cheerful, always joking around. JD supposed that’s why he and Perry got along so well; They balanced each other out. 

“Christmas is coming up. You never know, this might make a good present for someone.” 

**09.**

The writing was on the wall. Literally. Its letters were an angry-red, the edges smudged and eerily crooked at once in a way that reminded JD of all the horror movies Dan had forced him to watch when they were younger. 

_The Chamber Of Secrets had been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware._

“That’s not good, man.” Turk said. 

JD just nodded dumbly. He had flicked through _Hogwarts: A History_ enough times to know what this meant. What it meant for people like _him_. For Muggleborns. 

“Mudbloods,” someone said and JD cringed as if he’d been punched in the face. Beside him, Turk stiffened and JD knew that he was just about ready to make a grab for his wand and hex anyone who dared to insult his best friend. Usually, he’d be grateful for it. But right now he felt too tired to care. 

**10.**

JD squinted in suspicion as he walked out of Transfiguration only to find Perry leaning against the wall, Ben in tow. 

Before he could say anything, Perry had shoved a stack of books and parchments into his arms. 

“Carry my books to Charms for me, will ya, Mabel?” 

“But I need to get to Defense…” He protested weakly, but Perry had already moved on. 

JD sighed and began to trail behind Perry and Ben, feeling not unlike a domesticated Labradoodle. He wondered if that’s what his Patronus would turn out to be – a shaggy little thing with puppy dog eyes and a tendency to roll onto his back for belly scratches instead of chasing off Dementors. 

Lost in thought, JD didn’t notice that Perry had stopped until he’d grabbed back his books and pushed him into the open doorway to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. 

It wasn’t until he had taken his seat that something occurred to him. Maybe, JD thought, Perry had just wanted to look out for him.

**11.**

Waking up in the Chamber of Secrets made him feel like a little boy stuffed into a coffin. A discarded toy, thrown into a dusty, old box in the attic, lid shut tightly. No chance of escape. 

JD shot up with a groan, muscles stiff and aching. 

Looking around, he realized that he had never been here before. He had never laid eyes on the high ceiling with its cobwebbed dome, the blackened walls oozing with damp and a grimy substance that reminded him of snail slime. Everything looked like it was withered with age, tucked away in a corner of the castle the wizarding world had forgot. 

No, JD was sure that he had never seen these parts of Hogwarts before. 

And he had especially never seen Ben like this before, face ashen and eyes almost completely black with pure, unadulterated hatred. 

**12.**

“But _why_?” 

He winced as he tasted blood in his mouth. Somewhere down the line he must have bit his tongue. The stench of cold metal was nauseating. 

“It’s not because of blood,” Ben said, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “I don’t care about your parents.” 

A beat. Suddenly, Ben let out a jarring laugh, loud and forced and entirely out of place in the deathly silence that had fallen around them like a stifling curtain. JD flinched. 

“It’s about looks.” 

JD didn’t know what to say. Ben didn’t like… the way he _looked_? Of all things? 

“I don’t understand.” 

“It’s the way he looks at you,” Ben said after a moment, his voice pained. “He should look at _me_ , not… not you.” 

**13.**

These were the things he remembered. 

He remembered Ben’s laugh, hollow and far-away as JD scrambled for purchase, fingers scraping against unyielding stone in a desperate attempt to keep himself from falling off the ledge and into the waiting mouth of the Basilisk. Its hissing would forever be branded into his mind, sharp sounds that spoke of strained impatience. 

He remembered how the racing of his heart had almost drowned out the sounds of his surroundings. A fatal thing, since he could only rely on his hearing, his eyes clamped shut lest he’d accidentally meet the Basilisk’s eye and be turned into stone; a cenotaph for those foolish enough to venture into the Chamber Of Secrets ten, twenty, fifty years from now. 

He wondered how long his petrified bones would be enclosed in these halls. Would they turn into dust? Or would they simply endure the grasp of time, motes settling on the twisted spikes of his hair, and spiders nesting in the hollowed cavern of his mouth, his face forever twisted into a silent scream. 

And in the midst of it all – in this spiral of dread and terror, the knowledge that he would most certainly die here, the darkness calling him home the same way Hogwarts had once called out to him six years ago _come here, my friend, come now_ – JD remembered why he couldn’t give up just yet. 

He remembered his friends, Turk and Carla and Elliot, who were probably worried out of their minds right now, sitting in the Great Hall or in their common rooms, wondering where he was, if he was alright, if they’d ever get to see him again. He remembered Malachi and how his eyes would light up whenever he’d stop by, the pockets of his cloak bulging with fresh apples and sweet grapes. 

He remembered his family. Dan’s silly antics, the constant sneaking up on him and the horror movies. He remembered the dad who was never home and the mom who never cared. 

But most of all, he remembered Perry. The way his hair gleamed like freshly fallen leaves in the late afternoon sun. The way his eyes shone – almost turquoise, a sea at storm. How every smile was hard-earned, and how something swelled inside JD’s chest whenever he held his full attention. 

JD needed to get back to him. No matter the cost. 

Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand. 

**14.**

JD burst into the headmaster’s office, blood streaking across his face. 

The room was spinning, and JD silently admonished himself for not having thought to pause halfway up the stairs. He should have taken a deep breath – several of them – before barging in. He probably looked like an escapee from St. Mungo’s. 

“Professor! It’s Ben – he needs help, I couldn’t–” 

_I couldn’t save him_ , he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come out. So instead he just stood there, in the middle of the headmaster’s office, clothes drip-dripping grimy water onto the carpet as his lungs fought for air. Blood kept trickling into his eyes, painting the world an obscene red. He wondered if this was some morbid antithesis of being in love, only that instead of seeing everything through rose-tinted glasses, everything was vicious and violent and so damn _red_. He feared that he might never experience happiness again. 

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps, fast and angry, and a second later Perry was right in front of him. He was close enough that JD could feel his breath across his face, could see the turmoil in his eyes. 

Perry raised his hands and for a split-second JD thought that he might punch him in the face for leaving Ben behind. But to his relief he merely brushed his fingers across his forehead, gently prodding the bleeding gash near his hairline. 

“Newbie,” he breathed and JD nearly whimpered at the sound of it. Perry sounded scared, absolutely _terrified_. Like a wounded animal. 

“You’re okay.” He said. It sounded more like a statement of fact rather than a question. As if Perry was trying to reassure himself. 

JD swallowed hard.

“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m okay.” 

**15.**

“Wait, I don’t think I should be in here,” JD only caught a brief glimpse of the Gryffindor common room before Perry dragged him up a narrow spiral staircase. “I should probably go to the hospital wing, I mean–” 

“Shut up.” 

“Okay.” 

Perry shoved him through a doorway, and JD briefly wondered if he had gone mad because his first thought upon seeing Perry’s room was that it looked a lot less like a deviant sex dungeon than Jordan had led him to believe. It didn’t look much like anything, actually. There were no personal knickknacks, nothing that would make this place feel homely. There were no Quidditch posters or pictures – except for a single photograph sitting on his nightstand. JD craned his head to catch a glimpse of the person in it - almost managing it, too, before Perry unceremoniously dragged his hoodie over his head and his world went black. 

“Ouch, careful!” He squeaked, his voice muffled against the fabric. He grimaced when he inhaled the foul smell of blood and decay ingrained in its wool. He’d probably have to get some new clothes for next year. 

Once Perry had successfully wrangled the hoodie over his head (remarkably without anyone getting decapitated), he threw it in the corner of the room and reached for the buttons on his pants. JD gave an undignified squeal and swatted at Perry’s fingers, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed and too damn exhausted to make sense of any of this. Was Perry trying to get to second base with him? But they hadn’t even kissed. And why did he have to be the only one wearing nothing but his boxers? 

Head spinning, JD watched as Perry moved to the chest at the end of the bed, pulled out a pair of clean pants and a sweater – dark crimson with golden stitching – and tossed them into his lap. JD mumbled his thanks before pulling them on. 

“I–” 

Perry pressed against his shoulder and JD tumbled back onto the bed, dazed and confused – and then filled with an overwhelming sense of safety and warmth as Perry laid down next to him. His arms pulled him close, gently guiding his head onto his chest, and JD gave a content sigh. He could feel Perry’s heartbeat just beneath his ear, solid and soothing, lulling him to sleep. 

The last thing he was aware of before drifting off was the feeling of Perry’s fingers carding through his hair, uncaring off the blood and grime that stuck to him. 

**16.**

The bed was empty when he woke up. 

JD sat up, ruffling his hair and grimacing when his fingers came back coated in a thin layer of dried blood. He guessed he should be grateful that Perry’s Prefect suite came with its own bathroom (and really, it was no wonder that Jordan spent so much time over. Who would want to share a bathroom with their whole House if they could just as well steal away to use their exes instead). 

After his shower, JD grudgingly made his way to the Great Hall to get some breakfast. He was starving. 

A sharp whistle summoned him to the Gryffindor table. 

Perry was already halfway through his breakfast – scrambled eggs, a croissant filled with apricot jam, and a cup of hot toffee – when JD slumped down next to him. His thigh brushed against Perry’s, and JD briefly considered moving over, but the benches were packed and Perry didn’t seem to mind. Plus, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t been much closer than this just last night. JD blushed at the thought. 

Carla started fussing over him as soon as he sat down. JD just nodded along to her, saying that yes, he had gotten enough sleep last night, and of course he’d visit the hospital wing as soon as he’d finished breakfast. Meanwhile, Turk had started to fix a plate for him, throwing together a mismatch of sweet fruits and overdone bacon, muttering _I know what my vanilla bear needs_ under his breath. 

“So, is it true that Ben–” 

“Oh, lay off him, will ya?” Perry snapped, but JD could feel his shoulders tense. A strained silence fell across their table, broken only by the clattering of silverware. JD kept his eyes fixedly on the plate in front of him. 

There was a sudden tug on his sleeve and JD looked down to find Perry’s fingers bunched up in the cotton of his shirt, pulling him closer. It was all he could do not to tumble straight into Perry’s lap. He had never been particularly graceful. 

“What–” 

Before he could make sense of what was happening, Perry had pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The contact was brief, and JD would have been half convinced that it had been yet another daydream if it wasn’t for the look on Perry’s face. He seemed uncharacteristically shy – and yet there was a cocky glint in his eyes, as if he was daring JD to reject him. 

“You taste like toffee.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

JD grinned. At least he hadn’t gotten slapped this time. He supposed that was progress. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in response to the book challenge. I used the first or last word (give or take) on every tenth page of The Philosopher's Stone as a prompt. 
> 
> I also took some liberties with Hogwarts canon, mainly in regards to the perks that come with being a Prefect. 
> 
> The name Malachi was reverently taken from Rick Yancey's The Monstrumologist series.


End file.
